


Most Important Customer

by hopeassassin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeassassin/pseuds/hopeassassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Daiki's last year in Touou, and during his last cultural festival all he wants is to spend some time with his girl. But how can he spend any time with her if he can't even find her? And what is this huge line in front of his class' maid cafe anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Important Customer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aricania](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Aricania).



> Written for Aricania's prompt at Tumblr: _Maid Cafe_.
> 
> This is my fill for it. C:

Ever since acquiring Aomine Daiki for its basketball team three years ago, Touou Academy’s presence in the Inter-High and Winter Cup last matches was pretty much solidified.

 

Touou’s basketball team grew to be something fierce, taking win after win on various tournaments. It became a name known amongst many interested in high school basketball. It was a school where some of the best in the country wanted to attend and try their hand at playing.

 

But, before becoming one of the leading forces in the world of high school level basketball, Touou Academy was first—and foremost—a Japanese _high school_.

 

And as any Japanese high school—filled with a lot more than just one basketball club—it had a cultural festival, where people representing their various clubs or classes could present their work and entertain others with things that sparked their own interest.

 

Of course, representing their clubs was for the enthusiasts, and although he was the captain of the basketball team, Daiki had no energy to spare for nonsense such as this. Not to mention that a group comprised entirely of guys whose blood got pumping from challenging games didn’t feel very inclined to do anything as a club for the cultural festival.

 

This gave Daiki a lot of free time to wander around campus on both days of the event.

 

As far as his class went, the mere fact that he wasn’t in the same class as Satsuki for a third year in a row (and, more importantly, their last year and the only one when they were attending school while being a couple, too) really stung more than he’d ever admit. So when the people in his class were voting and deciding what they would be doing for the cultural festival, Daiki neither paid much heed to them, nor did he give a damn. All that mattered to him was that they’d come up with something quick and vote for it soon, so homeroom could end and he could go home.

 

So the fact that his class was doing a maid café was completely wasted on the Touou basketball ace.

 

He heard from Satsuki that her class was going to be doing a haunted house, and, regardless of the fact that didn’t interest him as a topic either, he decided he’d definitely pay them a visit on the day of the event, even if it were just to see his girl dressed as something ridiculous.

 

He did find it rather quaint that when he asked her what she was going to be playing, she just smiled enigmatically at him, told him he’d just have to wait and see, and then craftily diverted his attention with those wandering hands of hers. The fact she’d been so evasive about it piqued his curiosity, so he made sure that the first place he visited after showing up at school was Satsuki’s classroom.

 

He asked her classmates where she was, expecting to be directed to the nearest stall or something in that spirit. He was taken aback when all her classmates shrugged and said that she hadn’t been by at all. Unimaginable was his astonishment when he found out that she was never really part of her class crew for the festival either.

 

This little simple fact made all the more curious _where exactly_ she had been on those evenings she’d been quite late nowadays, in what she had _apparently lied to him_ was “preparation for the cultural festival”.

 

 _Humph_. Whatever. He would just interrogate her when he eventually ran into her.

 

It was a big school but he was _bound_ to run into her eventually!

 

Might as well make the most of it while he was at it, too.

 

Daiki heaved a deep sigh, and took a brochure about the layout of the stalls and events that the festival offered. His cerulean eyes scanned the page lazily, while he scratched his right cheek with his left hand absentmindedly. A plan began to form in his mind, centring mostly on the fact that he was starting to feel hungry and the feeling that he could use some entertainment in any form they were willing to offer him.

 

Since he was already on the third years’ floor, he decided he could go a bit further down the hallway and drop by his own classroom, to see how well they were doing there. Not that he really cared, but he had some time to kill before his stomach started growling too loudly to ignore.

 

As he dragged his feet closer, a rather long line came into view. The ace’s dark brows rose in curiosity as he neared the queue of people. Upon a little closer inspection, he found it to be a queue leading up to the exact same place he was going.

 

“What the…” he mumbled to himself, taking out the crumpled pamphlet from his pocket.

 

He straightened it out a little to check what it was that his classmates were doing again. He hummed in understanding when he saw the “maid café” printed on the page. Right; that pretty much explained why the line here was predominantly made out of daydreaming boys almost bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement to get in.

 

Still, being one of the eldest students in the school—not to mention a student in that class—Daiki trudged to the front of the line, ignoring the evil glares sent his way as he did so.

 

He took a peek through the window of the room, and whistled.

 

The whole room’s arrangement had been changed. He guessed that most of the guys had been put to work in order to get all the desks and chairs from inside to some other room, or stacked near the walls of the premise, to free some space. Instead of the usual desks and chairs, there were several small round tables placed, with pretty white tablecloths and ornamental candles in the middle of them.

 

The high light of the event was, of course, the fact that all the girls were dressed up as maids. Their costumes were quite frilly and intricate from what Daiki could see from his vantage at the entrance.

 

Before he could give the maids a more thorough once-over, he heard someone calling to him.

 

He looked down to find his class representative – a demure, soft-spoken girl – trying to get his attention.

 

She was a tiny thing, especially when she stood next to him. With his impressive height—chasing almost 200 centimetres now—she looked like a little kid in comparison, with her modest 156 cm. But her short stature only added to her charm points, especially when factoring in her D-cup bust—something Daiki couldn’t help respecting her for—and her warm, caring personality.

 

“Daiki-kun!” she exclaimed, once she finally had his attention. “You came by!” she enthused, putting down the sign she had been holding.

 

She must’ve been stationed at the front, recruiting people to come visit.

 

Daiki couldn’t help snorting a laugh—she was either doing a splendid job, or she was wasting her effort of these people were flocking here without her intervention.

 

“Yeah, thought this might be a good place to start my festival booths run,” he admitted, eyes lazily scanning the girl’s garments. A small smirk pulled up the corners of his lips. “That uniform looks good on you, Inori-san,” he complimented easily, drawing the attention of some of the people on the queue next to him.

 

His class representative beamed at him, a blush dusting her cheeks as she waved off his comment.

 

“Oh, please, you flatter me,” she said cutely.

 

She would’ve had him completely fooled if it weren’t for that quick shift of her eyes back into the room, looking at something inside, before she turned her attention back to him, all saccharine sweet and lovely. Daiki cocked a brow at her peculiar tic.

 

“Would you like to come in and try our café? I assure you, you will love it!” she enthused perkily, grabbing hold of his arm.

 

“But there’s a huge queue of people—I don’t feel like waiting around so long. I’ll come by later maybe,” he began saying, moving to manoeuvre himself out of the way—he was starting to worry about whether glares could truly be lethal perchance, because some of the looks he was receiving from the guys behind him were positively murderous and he didn’t feel like taking any risks with it—but before he could escape, the girl almost half his size grabbed a firmer hold on his arm.

 

She held onto him so decidedly and pulled him in with so much fervour that she ended up taking his hand out of his pocket where he’d kept it before.

 

“Nonsense!” Inori-san said with the brightest of grins. “You’re a person from this class! There’s no need for you to wait in lines to get service in here! Please, do come in!” she insisted, ushering him in.

 

Daiki couldn’t help but wonder if she was completely oblivious to the haunting glares her actions were earning him.

 

Then he remembered that he didn’t particularly care what people would think anyway, so he let himself inside the room without remorse, leaving the more than dozen boys waiting outside still right where they were.

 

His class representative led him to a free table, where he seated himself on one of the available chairs next to it. Only once he was seated did he notice that they obviously hadn’t accounted for someone of his impressive size sitting in their little establishment.

 

Inori was making some small talk with him, while his gaze scanned his surroundings nonchalantly. It looked even fancier inside. He had to give it to the girls in his class – they definitely had good taste when it came to these things. The room was decorated so impeccably well that even someone as thick-skinned as Daiki could feel the refined atmosphere this place gave off.

 

“So how does this work?” he prompted suddenly, cutting through his classmate’s chatter that he hadn’t listened to a word of. “Do I order something from you, or what?”

 

His sudden inquisition—along with the fact he had obviously ignored her the whole time—made Inori pause, but she didn’t let that faze her too long. The beaming smile was back on her face the very next moment, making her the vision of pleasantness and placidity.

 

“Oh, no—I was just showing you to your seat. The maid attending to you will be someone else.” Daiki threw his class representative an inquisitive look at her cryptic statement, his suspicion mounting when she didn’t answer him at all. Instead, she opted for smiling even wider at him. “Oh, I need to go take my shift now. I’ll leave you to it, then!”

 

She bid Daiki goodbye so quick that he didn’t even get a chance to protest or ask who was supposed to be tending to him. He huffed, slouching over the tiny table to put his head on his hand, propped by the elbow on the table top.

 

His eyes roamed the place disinterestedly before he felt a presence next to him. A throat cleared, apparently waiting for him to pay the newly arrived some attention. He turned his head slowly, ready to complain about Inori to whichever of his classmates had come to serve him.

 

Only to discover with a widening of his eyes who exactly it was that had come to take his order.

 

Standing right in front of his table, dressed impeccably in the uniform that all his female classmates had donned on for today, stood none other than his girlfriend Satsuki.

 

“Welcome home, Master!” she greeted in the sweetest tone he had ever heard her speak in. Her traditional maid café greeting was accompanied with an adorable wink his way, as she shifted her weight to her other foot. “How may I serve you today?”

 

It was kind of funny, really. How something like this could catch Daiki so utterly off-guard that he’d forget to pay any heed to his lower jaw control, or mind how wide his eyes were.

 

But as he openly gawked at his significant other—who, by the way, made that uniform look _criminally good_ when worn over such a perfect figure—Satsuki couldn’t help but smirk slyly in triumph.

 

She leaned over, propping her weight up by placing an arm on the table. She reached out, one of her dainty fingers cupping his chin and gently pressing up until his mouth closed.

 

When he realized he had been gaping, a vehement flush adorned Daiki’s tanned cheeks, much to Satsuki’s further amusement. Her sly smile became even smugger while she watched him attempt to collect his wits, trying not to look at her in order to do so, but failing.

 

“Tee hee,” she giggled mischievously, putting an index finger to her lips as she revelled in his reaction. “Do you like it, Dai-chan? I think I make a pretty good maid – what would you say?”

 

She twirled around gently, letting him see the back of the uniform as well. All the lace and fluffiness of the skirt made it impossible for one to look away, especially when she was facing in one’s direction. The form-fitting bodice flattered the ampleness of her chest in a mind-blowing way, and the bare shoulders, coupled with the long gloves gave her a rather ephemeral appearance. The bow her apron was tied in sat on top of the flawless curve of her ass, and with each and every movement she made, the flowing fabric billowed around her.

 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away even if he tried.

 

So he stopped trying, and gave into the temptation instead.

 

“Satsuki,” he began, once he finally found his voice. “ _What the hell_ are you wearing, and why are you taking part in my class’ activity instead of your own?”

 

If she wanted to complain to someone about the briskness of his tone, she should’ve complained to herself. It was her own fault for blindsiding him with something like this.

 

He didn’t come into this room prepared for this kind of sight at all. His heart wasn’t ready.

 

And, if she leaned any further towards him with that dangerously low-cut neckline, his crotch wouldn’t be ready to handle the sight nonchalantly either.

 

 _This_ , Daiki believed, was playing outright dirty!

 

When she grinned down at him he could tell she wasn’t feeling the least bit repentant at all, for torturing him like this in public.

 

“What are you saying, Dai-chan?!” she exclaimed in a feigned offended voice. “And here I thought you’d be happy that I decided to dress up in something nice for you!”

 

The ace took in a deep breath and released the heaviest of sighs, burying his face in his hand in an overdramatic gesture. When he stayed like that for a full minute, refusing to even look at her, Satsuki’s forced bravado slipped, making her expression ease into a soft smile.

 

She set the tray she was carrying on his table, sitting down on the chair in front of him. She pressed her knees together, all prim and proper, as she leaned over towards him to lace her fingers in the spikes of his navy hair.

 

“Sorry—was it too much of a shock keeping this a surprise?” she asked softly while running her fingers tenderly through his short locks.

 

He removed his hand from his face, then, and she noticed the glazed over look in his eyes as they roamed her seated form. She felt her face heat at the intensity of his gaze while it traced the lines and curves of her body unabashedly.

 

The lustful gleam in his sapphire orbs made her feel both triumphant and disarmed.

 

“A little heads-up would’ve been nice,” he told her in a voice barely above a whisper. He licked his lips while his eyes travelled back up her chest and the column of her neck to fix upon her face. “They really do look great on you. Those clothes,” he told her in a vaguely appreciative tone.

 

Satsuki beamed at him.

 

“You really think so?” The corner of his mouth quirked up at her question, giving her all the answer she needed. Her grin became effectively brighter than the sun. “I made it myself, you know!” she enthused merrily, jumping up from the chair she was sitting on to twirl in front of him again.

 

Daiki’s eyes widened in surprise at her newly served piece of information.

 

“You _made_ it yourself?” he echoed, the disbelief and awe reflecting clearly in his tone. Satsuki nodded happily in response.

 

“Yep, I did! I came up with the design and showed it to the girls in your class. They helped me make the actual uniform, though—some of them are really good with their hands!” The pink-haired girl nodded sagely to herself, making her billowing beautiful hair jostle with the movement.

 

Her boyfriend’s bafflement morphed into sly smugness at her comment.

 

“I’ll still vouch for you being the best as far as hand skilfulness is concerned,” he commented suavely. His smirk turned into a full-blown feral grin when her face flushed with colour, and she playfully swatted at his shoulder for his commentary. “What? It’s true! Don’t go playing modest all of a sudden!”

 

Daiki chuckled for a bit. When his mirth started finally ebbing away—and he forced his mind out of the gutter (this was neither the time nor place appropriate for him dwelling on the amazing things she could do to his body with those deft dainty fingers of hers), difficult as it was—he started pondering a simple fact once again.

 

“How’d you end up getting involved with their cultural festival plans anyway?” he queried, genuinely intrigued.

 

“Oh—well you mentioned it in passing when I asked what your class is doing for the festival. And it sounded more interesting than being a ghost, or a ghoul or whatever, which is what _my_ class would’ve had me do. So I decided to make better use of my stunning good looks!” she chirped smugly, flashing him the brightest of grins and winking at him as she said that. She jutted out her hip, emphasizing on how well the miniskirt flattered her form. It was hard not to notice that it did. “Besides, my uniforms were a big hit with your classmates—they have good taste! And my presence here seems to attract plenty of customers, too—the café got really popular in a short amount of time! I’m so happy!”

 

Daiki chuckled at her unbridled enthusiasm, leaning his body against his arm propped upon the table top again.

 

“I’m glad you’re having such a blast with this,” he told her sincerely. She beamed at him once again.

 

“I admit that all the laughs and giggles we got here while setting this up were an added bonus, but that matters most is that you enjoy the eye-candy I am providing here,” she said in a flirty tone, raking her fingers through her beautiful mane of hair, flipping it over her shoulder as she did. “I’m trying extra hard to do this absolutely right here for your viewing pleasure, especially on today of all days!”

 

His head tilted to the side as he regarded her in nonplus.

 

“What’s so particular about today?” he asked, clueless, making it her turn to blink in bafflement right back at him.

 

“What are you talking about?” she parried immediately, almost certain he must be faking it.

 

He continued looking as lost as ever. He heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose warily.

 

“I don’t think I have any idea what this conversation is about anymore. Let’s start over.” He crossed his arms, putting a pensive index finger under his chin. “We’ve been dating for less than a year, so there’s no way it’s our anniversary or anything.”

 

She continued staring him down, utterly perplexed.

 

Satsuki crossed her arms under her chest, making his eyes stray to her emphasized bust momentarily and making him lose what little track of the previous topic he’d had.

 

“You seriously have no idea what today is?” she asked again, as though to ascertain her suspicion.

 

A crease of aggravation formed in the furrow of his brow as he reciprocated her scrutiny.

 

“The first day of the cultural festival?” he ventured gruffly, his tone seeped with the annoyance he was beginning to feel at being left out of the loop—whatever the loop actually _was_.

 

Understanding dawned on Satsuki’s face—but only for a brief second. It was swiftly replaced with a mischievous glint before she rid her expression of it as well, opting for the saccharine grin from earlier, which went perfectly with her current choice of garments anyway.

 

“Indeed, it is!” she agreed and for some reason, he couldn’t help but feel like there was something she was keeping under wraps. “And, in 3-B’s Maid Café today, I shall be the maid serving you today!” she said cheerily, getting back in character. “Our menu includes omelette-rice, curry, and soup,” she listed perkily, picking up the tray from the table and into her possession once again. “I strongly recommend that you choose the omelette-rice!” she added as an after-thought, a certain twinkle in her eyes while she said it.

 

Daiki looked at her strangely but shrugged his shoulders and decided to go along with it. Since he was already there, he might as well have some lunch.

 

“If that’s what you guys can offer, then I guess I’ll go with curry,” he told her after some consideration. His mouth watered at the idea of some delicious, warm curry with rice.

 

“Okie-dokie! One order of omelette-rice coming right up!” Satsuki chirped, pivoting around on her high heeled boot and skipping over to the cooking corner of the classroom.

 

She did so while completely ignoring Daiki’s outraged cries after her.

 

She traipsed back to him a few minutes later, all sunshine, smiles and grins all over. A brief—miffed—glance in direction of the dish in her hand proved his suspicions right.

 

His brows knitted further over his eyes while she set the plate down in front of him. He glared at it, before shifting his attention back to her face.

 

“Here’s your order, Master! Please enjoy!” she said in a sing-song tone and a flourish of her hand towards the food, making the urge to hurt something overwhelming within Daiki.

 

“What was the point of asking me what I want to have if you already had other plans?” he ground out in displeasure, making her giggle merrily and wave her hand dismissively in his direction.

 

“Don’t sweat the details now, silly Dai-chan,” she chided half-heartedly. Her words were enough to make the pulsing vein on his forehead throb even harder in his barely reined in annoyance, though. “Just go ahead and dig in!”

 

He grumbled and griped while his gaze slowly shifted to the plate placed on his table. When he finally paid attention to it, though, not face faulting at the fact there was something written with ketchup on his omelette-rice became impossible.

 

“What the? Why is there ‘Love!’ and some ridiculous heart on my meal?” he demanded, looking peevishly up at her. “Does your cook know that we’re together?”

 

Instead of looking as outraged as he was, much to his confusion Satsuki simply chortled to herself behind her fingers.

 

“Actually, I insisted that I be the one making this particular dish, since it was Dai-chan’s and I wanted to put all my love and feelings into it!” she enthused, ignoring how he blanched the moment she mentioned having had anything to do with the kitchen and his food. “Go ahead now, don’t be shy – dig in!”

 

A muscle in the corner of his eye twitched spastically, a tell-tale sign of his distress along with the suddenly three shades whiter facial complexion.

 

“You _made_ this?” he reiterated, the horror seeping into his tone heavily. He shifted his eyes, almost too scared to study the dish too closely.

 

Satsuki noticed his reaction. Her brows narrowed and she glared at him, swatting her hand over his chest.

 

“Don’t make that face!” she chastised, putting her tray down on his table again. “This is actually good, I guarantee for it!”

 

“Do you now…” he mumbled suspiciously, eyeing her handiwork warily.

 

That’s when Satsuki decided she had had enough of his ridicule. She took his spoon, shovelled some of the food in it and force-fed it to him while completely ignoring his protests again.

 

In order not to choke on the bite, Daiki found himself chewing and swallowing it down before he could stop himself. Only after a few seconds passed, he realized that the aftertaste of what he had swallowed was actually—

 

“Tasty,” he said it with so much surprise and awe that she couldn’t help feeling offended again.

 

Nevertheless, she didn’t react upon it, because she knew he was the person who had suffered through most of her cooking misadventures more than anyone else, so she guessed he was entitled to feeling a bit wowed by her unexpected—for him—growth in that regard.

 

“This is pretty good!” Daiki exclaimed, looking at her in a revelling manner. Satsuki grinned down at him, savouring the ample flattery. “Are you really _sure_ you’re the one who made this?”

 

Her hand smacked his shoulder in response before she could stop herself. He chuckled and put his hands up in surrender before she continued her assault.

 

“Of course I’m sure!” she huffed. “I didn’t spend the past week perfecting my omelette-rice for nothing!”

 

It all finally clicked in Daiki’s mind.

 

“Is _that_ why you’ve been gone after school all these days? Getting cooking lessons?” Laughter was bubbling in his tone, and she couldn’t help the pout that rose to her lips in retaliation.

 

“So what if I have?”

 

“Is that why you were so insistent on me choosing omelette-rice? Because it’s the only thing you can cook decently on this menu?” His sniggers were getting impossible to suppress and she eyed him evilly out of the corner of her eye.

 

“In my defence, I _tried_ to do the others, too, but there simply wasn’t enough time to do all three dishes decently, and _will you stop laughing already_?! It’s not that funny!” she finished in almost a shout, smacking his shoulder none-too-gently again.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said unrepentantly, making her glare down at him. “I didn’t mean to upset you. The food is impressively good, especially from you.”

 

“That last comment was really unnecessary,” she pointed out petulantly. She peered curiously at the slight gape of his mouth and the coy look on his face. She raised a brow at his antics. “What?”

 

“Feed me,” he insisted curtly, leaving his mouth open ajar afterwards again, awaiting her compliance.

 

At that point, Satsuki flushed a bright red colour, staring indignantly at him as though he’d lost his mind.

 

“What are you saying, idiot?” she snapped defensively. “You’ll give the other customers wrong ideas!” she reproached reasonably. Much to her chagrin, Daiki simply shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly.

 

“Don’t care. You’re my girlfriend—I get special treatment. Now, feed me,” he commanded imperiously again, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he stood, gaping at her.

 

She watched his parted lips for a while, and how alluring he looked like that. The heat spread from her face down her neck right to the tips of her toes, her mind (not the least bit) helpfully supplying her attention with moments when he’d craftily put that mouth of his to use upon her body, and just before her thoughts could venture any further down the gutter, she cleared her throat and grabbed a spoonful of her omelette rice.

 

She delivered it carefully to his mouth, watching maybe a bit too intently as his jaws parted wider to allow the utensil in, before letting it pop out empty again. He chewed deliberately, swallowing slowly and then opening his mouth expectantly again.

 

She repeated the motion a few more times before she realized that the position she was taking wasn’t very kind on her back at all.

 

As though having foreseen that—or maybe having planned for that all along, the rascal—Daiki grinned roguishly at her and patted his leg suggestively at her.

 

She eyed him incredulously for a few seconds. She understood fully well what he meant by that gesture, so his repeat of it was absolutely unnecessary.

 

“No,” she answered firmly, embarrassment tingeing her tone.

 

“Why not?” he argued, his face still stretched in that devilishly handsome grin.

 

“Sitting on your leg is _beyond_ not-okay,” she clarified with a pretty blush dusting her cheeks. Daiki’s grin widened, if that was even physically possible.

 

“Come on,” he prodded gently.

 

“No.”

 

“I thought I was your ‘master’ in here,” he said, deciding to change tack. “And that you were supposed to serve me as long as I am here.”

 

“Well, _yes_ , but—”

 

“So what’s the problem?” he insisted, relishing the obvious internal battle he saw raging in her eyes at his claim.

 

What he didn’t expect was her sighing dramatically in defeat, and seating herself as neatly as she could on one of his spread legs, putting her arm gingerly around his neck to steady herself. Her other hand she busied with scooping the food up into the spoon before bringing it to his lips.

 

She seized the evanescent moment of his dumbfounded surprise to get at least some revenge on him for being so cheeky.

 

“Say ‘ahh’,” she taunted with a mischievous grin.

 

Daiki’s bafflement morphed into an equally impish smirk. He wasted no time in complying with her order, chomping down on the food she was offering him.

 

The rest of the patrons in the make-shift establishment of 3-B’s room stared in awe at the unfolding situation, transfixed. They then turned to the maids serving them, demanding in varying phrasings pretty much the same thing.

 

“I want to have what he is having!”

 

Inori giggled and shook her head at the boy she was taking care of.

 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry—I’m afraid that service is limited to that customer exclusively,” she explained languidly, making the other boy demand in despair what made the ace so special.

 

The class representative smiled enigmatically.

 

“He’s our most important customer today.”

 

* * *

 

Daiki regarded the girl in his lap with a placid smile while he finished up the last of his first handmade meal by her that wouldn’t require him being rushed to the infirmary. She smiled brightly back at him, pressing a napkin to his lips after he had finished his meal.

 

She regarded him for a moment before leaning in to place a kiss on his lips. She pulled away right when he was about to make it more heated than she was absolutely comfortable with in their current situation—and body alignment.

 

She looked at him from an arm’s reach away, her hands on his shoulders while she was still sitting on his lap in her exquisite maid uniform.

 

“How was your meal, Master?” she asked complacently, the mirth bubbling in her voice.

 

“Most excellent—my best regards to the chef,” he commented airily with false pretentiousness. She found that it suited him terribly, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“I will make sure to pass them along,” she assured him, before he leaned in to capture her lips in another kiss.

 

When they parted, she sighed deeply and placed her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed to savour the moment a bit longer.

 

“So how did you like my maid café surprise for you?” she prompted.

 

Even though she couldn’t see his smirk, she could practically _feel_ it.

 

“Best cultural festival event _ever_ ,” he assured her cheekily.

 

She giggled merrily against him before pressing another chaste kiss to his lips.

 

“No—best _birthday_ ever,” she corrected him fondly. She couldn’t deny she enjoyed the surprise that coloured his features in the moment following her comment. She chuckled again, kissing his forehead. “Happy birthday, Dai-chan,” she whispered against his skin.

 

Her movement to place her lips against his forehead directed his attention a bit too pointedly down her neckline. Focusing on anything else became a bit impossible, and it took everything Daiki had in him not to make a whine of protest when the pacifying weight of her body and warmth left him as she stood up.

 

“I have to get back to work now, though—I promised the girls I’d help them out as thanks for letting me do this for you,” she explained hurriedly. She leaned in to kiss his cheek once more before extricating herself from him—as difficult as it was. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

 

“See you,” he called after her with a sigh, when his attempts of ‘Do you have to?’ and ‘Let’s do something else instead’ fell on deaf ears.

 

He picked himself up from his seat at the table and trudged off towards the exit of the room.

 

He left 3-B’s classroom to the chorus of “Please come again, Master!” from his classmates and his playfully smiling girlfriend.

 

* * *

 

“Someone please go refill the water, please! We’re running pretty low here,” one of the girls from the improvised kitchen/cooking corner called to the rest of her comrades.

 

Eager to get a breather, Satsuki volunteered her services for the matter.

 

She took the bucket diligently and made her way out the room. She didn’t manage to get very far, though, because a pair of strong hands grabbed hold of her after she’d made no more than a few strides in direction of the sinks.

 

One of the hands was on her mouth, keeping her from screaming out in surprise; the other was slinked around her waist, and it steadied her while she was hauled off into a deserted classroom.

 

The pink-haired girl kicked and resisted vehemently, all sorts of thoughts racing through her mind in that moment—the most predominant one being that she should’ve taken Inori-san’s advice to ‘be careful because she looked too cute today’ a bit more seriously, instead of thinking of it as shameless flattery for her person.

 

Before she could panic fully, a familiar voice chuckled in her ear.

 

“Easy now, Satsuki—it’s me.”

 

He relinquished his hold on her mouth and waist only after he’d made sure that she wouldn’t scream and attract everyone’s attention in the hallway outside—and there was quite the sizeable crowd there.

 

“Dai-chan!” she exclaimed, incredulous. “What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack there!”

 

He chuckled, pleased with himself, and she knew immediately she was not getting an apology for his outrageous behaviour.

 

“Consider it repercussion for wearing such a provocative outfit without warning me first,” he whispered against her lips and before she could manage a response, his mouth covered hers in a fervent kiss.

 

He slid the door of the classroom shut, making Satsuki back up further inside the premise while his lips never left hers.

 

The moment his tongue ventured into her mouth and swiped against hers, thinking became a luxury she didn’t care to afford much. He pressed her down on her back against a desk and essentially climbed on top of her, draping his body over hers. His fingers roamed her uniform, his hands careful in a worship-like attention to her clothed curves.

 

When he lifted his upper half away from her for a moment way too long for Satsuki’s preferences, she couldn’t help a heated glare in his direction—especially when they were just getting to the good part.

 

Just when she was about to demand what his play was, she noticed that the reason he’d paused was so he could take a picture of her dishevelled maid appearance with his phone.

 

She flushed crimson and covered herself up as much as she could manage from her vulnerable position sprawled over the desk in front of him.

 

“Is now _really_ the time to be taking pictures, Daiki?” she quipped testily, her intense glare somewhat ruined by the embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

 

“Now is the _perfect_ time to be taking pictures, actually,” he informed her matter-of-factly with a grin. “When else would I get to see your hair all mussed and your expression so lax while you’re wearing a half-undone maid uniform?”

 

She huffed even though he could perfectly tell her heart wasn’t in it.

 

“You’re such a pervert, Dai-chan,” she complained with a pout, her hands still covering her securely.

 

“And you have only yourself to thank for that,” he parried swiftly, enjoying the heated glare she threw him at that.

 

She gave up on trying to dissuade him from snapping shots at her after a moment.

 

“If you try not to ruin the uniform, I could always ask the girls to let me keep it – then there would be no need for you to take any pictures: you’d get to have the real thing anytime you want.”

 

Her suggestion made him pause, the hand with the phone hovering halting entirely. She knew she had his attention, so she pushed herself up to a sitting position on the desk, one of her hands reaching out to pull him in so her mouth was against the shell of his ear.

 

“That is, as long as you stay a good boy and don’t misbehave,” she whispered headily, delighting in the shiver her comment send down his spine.

 

Her tactic worked like a charm, because the very next moment all thoughts of capturing her weakness in that moment evaporated from his mind almost as quickly as he relieved her of her panties and her conscious thought process.

 

The last sensible thought Satsuki had in her mind (before it completely shut down) was to muffle the sounds that tore from her lungs and throat while her birthday boy’s capable mouth travelled up the length of her thigh, lest someone should walk in on them before she was done fulfilling his birthday wishes.


End file.
